


Heart Says Go

by JamesPeppersalt



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Adopted Children, Adoptive Parents - Freeform, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bonding, Canon Bisexual Character, Childhood, Cigarettes, Damn It Preston, Dogs, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Drugs, Español | Spanish, Explicit Language, Exploration, Fallout Lore, Family Bonding, Foreign Language, Hoarding, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sex, Junk, Loss of Parent(s), Love, M/M, Massachusetts, Mexican Character, Much Drug, Music, Nuka Cola, Post-Nuclear War, Recreational Drug Use, Step-parents, Such cheese, Synths (Humans), The Boston Commonwealth, Travel, Vault 111, Very Sadness, Wasteland, Wow, references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:58:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7170125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesPeppersalt/pseuds/JamesPeppersalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Hancock is a lonely man.<br/>There's no secret to it- no matter how much company he kept, no matter how many lovers he took, all the drugs in the world couldn't fix that. But one man could- another lonely man, looking to avenge the wife he'd lost and find the son that had been stolen from him. Now, he's gone, too.<br/>Armed with sharp wit and a gun, with a dog and his lover's false son as his companions, he will do anything to bring back the Sole Survivor of Vault 111.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brain Says Stop

"Dad?"

Hancock opened his eyes slowly, the hot Commonwealth sun stinging his retinas.

"Shaun," he said with a slight slur to his speech, "how many times have I told you not to call me that?"

The little boy was watching him with wide, curious brown eyes. "But you _are_ my dad. Aren't you?"

Hancock sighed and rubbed his forehead. He didn't want to deal with this right now. He was crashing after a long high, and he did _not_ want to interact with anyone right now, least of all Mateo's son.

"Look, kid. I'm _not_ your dad. Mateo- he _is_ your dad. Not me."

"But you two are always together." Shawn looked down. "Well, you _used_ to be, before Dad went away."

This. This was why.

"He'll come back. He always does. Don't worry." Hancock himself felt a twinge, however; it was getting harder the believe that with every day Mateo was gone.

"Yeah..." Shaun looked out at the landscape stretching out before them past the seclusion of Red Rocket Truck Stop. Nearby was Sanctuary, where Mateo had once lived with his wife, Nora, and his infant son, Shaun- the _real_ Shaun, not the one sitting in front of Hancock, with his dark eyes glinting in the sunlight and his chestnut hair- the same color as his father's- blowing in the wind. "But he's never been gone this long. I don't like it."

"I don't like it much either, squirt." Hancock closed his eyes again. "But Cait's with him. She'll protect him."

Shaun nodded, but he didn't look so sure. He pulled his knees to his chest. "Could we go look for him, Da- Mr. Hancock?"

Hancock sighed, snuggling closer against the wall he was leaning on. "Look, kid, right now, I'm nursing a _massive_ hangover. But come tomorrow morning, when I'm nice and sober, we can take you and that mutt of your dad's to look for him. Capeesh?"

Shaun cocked his head. "What does 'capeesh' mean?"

Hancock groaned. "Nevermind. Just be ready to go in the morning."

A smile broke out on Shaun's face as he jumped up. "Okay! I'll go pack, and get Dogmeat, and-"

"Whatever. Wake me up when tomorrow comes... or whenever this hangover ends."

 

***

 

Hancock was beginning to like little kids less and less.

By the time morning had come, Shaun had completely and utterly overpacked.

Currently, Hancock was gripping what had once been the bridge of his now-gone nose, trying to comprehend some of the kid's decision.

"Shaun. For the last time, you do _not_ need a broken lamp."

"But- but what if I want to tinker on the trip?" Shaun asked, pouting and staring up an Hancock with big brown eyes. He was exactly like his father in so many ways, it was terrifying.

"Listen, kid, it may for some strange reason run in your family to want to carry around useless junk, but we're not going to be gone long enough to stop at the side of the road and 'tinker'."

Shaun frowned, reached into his backpack, and threw out a lamp, a broken toy car, and several tin cans. Hancock noticed he didn't throw out the aluminum ones, however.

"Okay. What else you got?"

"Um... clothes... food... Nuka Cola... comics..."

"Is that it?"

Shaun nodded eagerly. "Can we go now?!"

Dogmeat barked. The German Shepard was sitting patiently, but his tail was wagging and he was staring at Hancock as if he expected to go soon.

"Sure. Come on, kiddo."

Dogmeat barked again and jumped to his feet, running to Hancock's side. Hancock patted his head nervously. "Yes... um... good pooch. Yeah."

Shaun slung his backpack over his shoulder. "Where do we start, Mr. Hancock?"

"Well, Cait and your dad were headed for Diamond City, so that's where we'll start."

"I've never been to Diamond City. Dad says it's big, but it makes him sad, 'cause his favorite baseball park used to be there."

"Yeah, well, it makes me sad, too," Hancock scoffed.

Shaun's head turned to the side with curiosity. "Why?"

Hancock grimaced. After all that business with his brother, then finding out it was never really his brother... "It's just some personal stuff, kid. Plus, they don't like ghouls up there. Or synths like y-" Hancock bit his tongue. "Synths like Curie or Valentine."

A frown developed on the boy's face. "Why would anyone hate people like Curie or Mr. Valentine?"

Hancock shrugged. "I dunno, kid. Some people are just like that."

Shaun's hands tightened around the straps of his bag. "People are stupid."

"Pfft. Kid, I don't know if truer words have ever been spoken." Hancock pick up his shotgun with one hand and held out his other. "Ready?"

Shaun beamed. "Yes!"

"Alright." Hancock turned his eyes to the rising sun and tightened his grip as Shaun took his hand. "Let's go find your dad."


	2. Stop Real Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hancock and Shaun make their way to Diamond City.

Shaun hid behind Hancock as the Raiders sized him up.

"Looky here," one of them drawled sadistically. "We've got quite to group here. A patriotic ghoul, a little kid, and somebody's _mutt_."

Dogmeat growled and snapped at them. The other raider laughed.

"Hush, Dogmeat," Hancock warned.

"Dogmeat? What an appropriate name!"

There were two raiders in front of them- a man and a woman. The woman looked like the meaner of the two, baring her teeth at them. Her head was shaved, and her face had a menagerie of burns across it, the handprint-shaped faced paint doing little to hide it. She was leaning against a spiked baseball bat like a rather sinister-looking cane.

The man looked easier to take down; he was pudgier and angrier, probably less in control of his rage. His head was hidden by a sack hood, and he was covered in cage armor.

Right now, these two were it, but Hancock knew there were bound to be more somewhere. Waiting for the right moment to strike, if he couldn't call these two off.

"Well, now, it seems we've arrived at an impasse," Hancock stated, trying to turn on the charisma. The man growled, but the woman held out her arm to keep him at bay.

"This doesn't have to be a bloodbath if you two just... step aside."

"Hm, but riddling you with bullets and taking all your caps seems so much _easier_ ," the woman cooed, stroking the end of her bat. "Don't you think, Slater?"

Slater, the sack-hooded raider, laughed with maniac glee.

"Now, listen _here_ , ladies," Hancock began again, provoking another angry guttural noise from Slater. "I'm not sure you really wanna mess with us."

Slater glanced at the woman. "Do we, Ramsey?"

Ramsey raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, ghoul. _Do_ we?"

"I'm not sure if you recognize this kid," Hancock said, motioning to Shaun.

"What are you doing, Dad... er, Hancock?" Shaun asked, voice trembling and grip tightening on Hancock's coat.

"Just watch, kid," he whispered before turning his attention back to the raiders.

Ramsey frowned. "He looks like just another kid to me. I should know." She grinned sickly. "I've killed _plenty_ of them."

Hancock wanted to put a bullet in between this woman's eyes, and then again for good measure. But he knew better than to act on his anger.

"I'm sure you've heard of his dad..."

"Who? You?"

"I didn't even think ghouls could make _spawn,"_ Ramsey scoffed.

"Not _me_. Though, if you haven't heard of me, you need to get out more," Hancock mused. "Nah, _his dad's_ pretty famous in these parts. Ever head the name Mateo Garcia?"

Slater didn't react, but Ramsey's eyes widened. "You mean that Minutemen General?"

" _The_ Minutemen General."

"Ha! That just means he'll fetch a higher ransom-"

"Shut up, Slater," Ramsey barked. "Are you utterly suicidal, or just _stupid_? Have you _heard_ what Garcia does to people who mess with him?"

"Let's just say there are quite a few mass graves with the epitaph 'Mateo Wuz Here' on them," Hancock hinted. He smiled as he watched them squirm with indecisiveness, unable to make a good decision.

Ramsey glared, and pointed her bat at Hancock. "Okay, look here, _freak_. We'll let you pass with the kid, but you _never_ show your rotten face here on our territory  _again._ Got it?" she growled, eyes flitting from Hancock to Shaun to Dogmeat, who was still growling.

"Ah, see? That wasn't hard, was it?"

 _"Get out!"_ she screeched. Hancock picked up Shaun and ran, Slater shooting after them. They were just warning shots, but the still made Hancock's blood turn to ice. Waiting until they were far in the Boston ruins to stop, he slumped against a wall, breathing heavily and dropping Shaun next to him.

Dogmeat whimpered and licked Hancock's face.

"Yeah, yeah. Good pooch..." Hancock panted, patting Dogmeat's muzzle.

Shaun crawled to the edge of their cover and glanced around. "Do you think they're gone?"

"For now. But that trick won't work on every raider in the Commonwealth."

Shaun curl up at Hancock's side.

"You okay, kiddo?"

"I'm fine," Shaun answered quietly. Hancock wrapped his arm around the kid.

"Hey, don't worry. We won't be out too long, right? We're just going to Diamond City, find some info one what your dear ol' dad's been up too, and then once we've checked up on him, we'll go home. Right?"

Shaun nodded. "Right."

"Good kid. Let's stop somewhere for the night, 'kay? The sun's about to go down. Keep your fingers crossed that we don't run into anymore Raiders. Come on, Dogmeat."

 

***

 

Once Shaun had gone to bed, Hancock took the opportunity to get high.

He'd made sure to stock up on chems for the trip, and made extra-careful to hide them from Shaun.

Nobody wanted a kid to see them like that. Even Cait, before she'd gotten clean, had made sure to never shoot up Psycho when Mateo's son was around.

Tonight's ride of choice was Jet, a personal favorite of his after Mentats. He let it dull out his surroundings and keep reality at bay. Soon, everything around him was a blur, and there was no way to tell fake from real.

In his high, he saw Mateo. Dark skin, big eyes, chestnut hair shaved at the sides and parted to the left. Every detail of his face, from his too-big nose to the line of stubble leading from his chin to his sideburns, was noticed by Hancock.

Smiling, he let himself drift off to a dreamless, drug-induced sleep.


	3. Slow Times Roll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why the hell are there so many people in the Fallout fandom now a long time ago I had to delete my Fallout fics for being so unpopular but this for like 30 hits within twelve hours??

"Psst. Mr. Hancock, why are you covering your face like that?"

Hancock pulled his cowl more tightly over his face. "Like I said, kid. They don't like ghouls here."

Shaun slipped his hand into Hancock's, staying close to him. A lot of people were already staring. Normally, when he was with Mateo, he wouldn't cover up at all; he'd just let people stare. If anyone said anything, Mateo would defend him. But now, he was the one in charge, and he couldn't risk Shaun's safety just because of his stubbornness. It had taken a lot of convincing now just for Danny to let them in.

"Well, well, if it isn't my least favorite mayor in the Commonwealth."

Hancock grinned as he heard a familiar voice. "Been promoted, have I?"

Piper Wright stood in the doorway of her house, leaning against the door with her arms crossed. "What brings you to Diamond City, eh?"

"Aunt Piper!" Shaun cried, running up to the reporter and giving her a hug.

"Little Shaun. How've you been, kid?"

"Good! Dad- uh, Mr. Hancock is helping me find Daddy."

Piper's lips twisted in a strange manner. "Why don't you guys come inside, then, eh? I've got drinks." She nodded to Hancock. "Get in. You can take off that _ridiculous_ headgear." She opened the door, and Shaun raced inside, Hancock and Dogmeat following.

Piper brought out Nuka-Cola for the kids and cold ones for Hancock and herself. Nat and Shaun played Nat's room with Dogmeat while the adults talked.

"So, you're looking for Garcia, then." Piper took a long swig from her beer. "Last I saw, he was heading out with Cait."

"Same here. I was hoping to stop by Home Plate and see if I could pick up any clues there."

"Heh. I think Curie's been hanging out there. Maybe you could ask her about it."

"Thanks, Pipes."

Piper rolled her eyes. "Look, I don't have a problem when Mateo says it, but the same olive branch isn't stretched towards _you_."

"Come on. You love me."

"Ah, yes, because who _couldn't_ love the dashing, skinless addict from Goodneighbor? Not to mention the brother of my late arch nemesis."

Hancock frowned. "My brother was never your enemy, Pipes. It was his synth replacement."

Piper's smile faded as she looked away. "I know."

There was a long, awkward pause until Hancock stood up, grabbing his cowl and goggles. "Well, Shaun, it's time to head out."

"Aw, already? Nat was about to show me her newspapers!"

"'Friad so, kid. Let's roll out. Dogmeat, come."

Dogmeat barked and trotted to Hancock's side, joined shortly but Shaun.

"Come on, kid." Hancock pulled on his cowl. "We're going to pay Aunt Curie a visit."

 

***

"Ah, Monsieur Hancock! For what do I owe this visit?!" Curie cooed, clapping her hands together.

"Curie, babe. How ya doing?" Hancock asked, giving her a hug.

"Oh, very good. Monsieur Mateo has treated me very well. I've been keeping this place tidy for 'em until 'e returns!" she leaned down so that she was eye-level with Shaun. "And if it isn't little Shaun! How 'ave you been?"

"I've been great, Curie," Shaun answered, smiling. "We're looking for my dad!"

"Ah, but I'm afraid 'e is not 'ere," Curie lamented. "Actually, 'e-"

"Left with Cait, I know, I know."

"But- non, zat was not ze last I saw 'em," Curie stated, confused. "Monsieur Mateo came back here a few weeks ago, alone."

"He did _what_? When? Why?"

"Well, uh, 'e said he was going to visit Monsieur Valentine. Somezing about looking for... a scientist? I do not know." She puckered her lips. "But oh, you must 'ave 'ad a long journey! You must rest!"

"But, Curie-"

"Non! You will stay. I _insist_ ," she chided. "Stay for tonight. You can visit Monsieur Valentine in ze morning. Yes?"

Hancock frowned, but he knew there would be no convincing Curie otherwise. "You know what? Sure. I'll be upstairs if you need me."

"Wonderful!" she gushed, clapping. "Come now, Shaun! Let's give you a bath. You've come _such_ a long way! A growing boy need to stay clean!"

Curie took Shaun's hand and led him away, petting Dogmeat between the ears. "Good boy."

Hancock took off his coat, hat and cowl, hanging them up, throwing the goggles he'd been using to cover his eyes on the ground. He turned and made his way upstairs to the bedroom.

He'd been here before many times. He'd been here when Mateo had bought the place, and when he'd decorated it, too. He'd grinned like a goofball while building this place up.

"I'm going to put in a dog house," Mateo had said. " _On the inside_."

Dogmeat was in that dog house now, chewing on one of Shaun's alien toys. Curie had already filled the dog bowl with water and canned kibble. He'd seen Mateo _eat_ an entire can of that junk.

Sometimes it made Hancock wonder if Mateo'd taken one too many bullets to the head. He'd heard that was a common cause of almost-death in the Mojave.

He sat down in the chair next to the bed and lit a cigarette. Hancock and Mateo had spent a lot of long, glorious nights here. Hancock didn't enjoy the lack of his lover's company. He'd never been in this loft alone, but it looked like he'd be sleeping her tonight. Curie had her own bed. There was even one for Shaun, though he'd never used it. Mateo didn't like having his son here, in a city full of bigots. And after the incident with McDonough, he didn't much like bringing Hancock here, either.

But Geneva was straightening things out. This city would get better. Soon, Mateo might even let Shaun here.

But this city had given Hancock a lot of scars, scars that couldn't heal.

He sighed, leaned back, and let the smoke curl from his lips, letting his world fade away in a nicotine haze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me apologize for my abstract title names. If it helps, they make sense to me?


	4. Rolling on the River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hancock and Shaun pay our favorite synth detective a visit, and Hancock revisits some old scars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For purpose of ease, I'll be calling McDonough "Guy", which a lot of people originally speculated to be his first name through dialogue from Hancock. This was never confirmed to be his name, but since he doesn't really have a canon one to use... :/  
> (Also, there really _was_ an image up online of Hancock as a human once, but it's gone now. I still have it on my phone.)

"Dad, look at all this _water_!"

Hancock had, for the time being, refrained from chastising Shaun for calling him "Dad". It would be harder to keep his identity a secret if Shaun kept going around calling him "Mr. Hancock".

"Shaun, get out of the water."

Shaun turned, smiling. He'd been splashing around and swimming in the river with Dogmeat, playing all carefree-like while they killed time waiting for Valentine's assistant to let them in. The way Shaun played reminded Hancock of happier days. "It's so much cleaner than the water back home at Red Rocket! Dad, was there a river around where you grew up?"

"Of course. I grew up down there." Hancock pointed to the little riverside shack in the distance, the humble abode he'd once called his childhood home.

Shaun stared incredulously, open-mouthed. "What?! I didn't know you used to live here! Was it fun?" He asked, making his way to the riverbank where Hancock stood, followed by his loyal pooch. "Did you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Mm..." Hancock sat down, joined by Shaun. "I had a brother."

"Really? What was he like? Did he look like him?"

Hancock found it a lot easier to talk about his brother, now that he knew the insane tyrant who'd worn his face and ruined the city they'd once called home wasn't him. "We used to look alike. Say what you will, I used to look really handsome."

"Daddy says you are handsome."

"More handsome than now, believe it or not. I had a nice face way back when. With hair. And skin. We had strawberry-blonde hair and blue eyes, before I went Ghoul and he got... old-looking." Did he get old-looking? Or was that not the Guy he knew, just a synth who'd stolen his face? Did synths age?

No, Mateo had told him synth's don't age, not really. They don't get taller, or wrinkled, or wizened by the years. Hancock had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, Shaun would never grow up; he'd be a child forever, and when Mateo was long gone, Hancock would be left to take care of him.

But on the other, it meant he'd gotten to age with his brother. At least for a while.

"He was chubbier than me. Roly-poly kid, couldn't keep up with me very well, but he always found one way or another to pull pranks on me. Putting tatoes down my shirt, shoving me into the river..." Hancock chuckled. "Good times. A year ago, I would've said he was a jack- mm. A really bad guy. Then the whole thing with the Institute synth..."

Hancock shuddered. He hated dwelling on that, and he hated not knowing if the man whose face had born that wolfish, mile-long, sadistic smile when all the Ghouls were drivne out or slaughtered- he hated not knowing if that was his brother, or some pretender wearing his face.

Shaun frowned, looking wistfully across the river. "I didn't think the Institute was really that bad when I lived down with them."

"Ah, yeah. I forgot you used to live with those freaks," Hancock joked. "What was it like? Scary? Agonizing?"

"Quiet," Shaun answered.

...Well, Hancock never expected _that_ kind of answer to describe the headquarters of the Bogeymen of the Commonwealth.

"And clean. There was a lot of white, and blue. There was grass and little waterfalls around the stairs," Shaun continued. "We weren't allowed to play in the water, but Dad never listened. He used to stomp around in it and splash the scientists." Shaun's lips twisted up and he began to giggle. Hancock couldn't help smiling and laughing, too; Mateo would definitely pull a stunt like that. "It was funny, 'cause they couldn't do anything but get mad. Father- er, the Director, I mean- and Dad were close for some reason, so they left him alone." Shaun sighed. "I used to miss the Institute sometimes, but now that I've seen some of the bad things they did... I don't know."

Hancock put his arm around Mateo's son. "I know how you feel, kid. This isn't anything like the home I remember. I used to thing this place was all sunshine and daisies- the 'Glittering Gem of the Commonwealth'- but after what my brother... no, after what _the mayor_ did..."

"Dad says Mayor McDonut was a bad guy."

Hancock snorted. "He wasn't, at least, not at first, maybe. And it's Mc _Donough_ , not Mc _Donut_."

"Really?" Shaun frowned. "Dad always says its McDonut. You could tell 'cause he was all round and stuff."

"Kid, if I grew up with a name like 'John McDonut', you can bet I would be living it up I a hole in the ground, lacking the confidence to carry on."

"You do seem to have a lot of confidence," Shaun agreed. "Dad says you have to, to wear that 'ridiculous pink coat' around everywhere."

"It ain't pink, it's lightish red," Hancock corrected. He looked down and found himself fiddling with his ring. He let go of it and stood up. "Now, come on. How much you wanna bet that Mr. Valentine's ready for us to pay him a visit?"

 

***

 

"So, what brings the illustrious mayor of Goodneighbor to my office?"

Hancock was sitting across from Valentine at Nick's front desk, elbows on the surface and chin resting on hands. Shaun was reading a RobCo Fun magazine at the desk in the corner, and Nick's assistant, Ellie, was petting Dogmeat while standing at Nick's side.

"What, I can't just drop in to see the charming synth detective?."

Nick chuckled. "Come on, John, don't mess around. I know you wouldn't come to Diamond City without a good reason, especially not with your kid following you around like a duckling."

"Not my kid. And yeah, you're right. I wouldn't put Shaun in danger for no reason. I'm looking for Mateo."

Nick's yellow eyes widened. Then he shut them tight, leaned back, and sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "Ellie, get me that file. The one on the Institute scientist."

"Of course, Nick." Valentine looked back to Hancock as she walked to get something out of a filing cabinet. "I'm surprised he didn't tell you of all people where he was going. Although he might not have wanted you to follow him."

Hancock glared. "Why?" he asked, voice rising. "Where was he going? I swear, Valentine, if he's doing anything to get himself killed-"

"I don't know if it's anything like that," Valentine interrupted. Ellie placed a manila folder in Nick's hands, labelled " _Mateo's Scientist Leads_ ". "He was going after two retired Institute scientists, the ones who took..." Nick glanced back at Shaun, who was kicking his feet and humming as he read. "Well, the ones who were there when his wife was killed."

Hancock didn't feel any better. "Well?"

"I don't exactly know what he was doing, but he said he was 'trying to cut some loose ends'. This particular end was among them." Nick opened the folder. "One of them, a 'Stockholm, Stephen' died a while back. Injured returning to the Institute. But the other... a woman named 'Rose Moorland'. She's still alive, and living down south, near the other side of the Glowing Sea."

"The Glowing Sea," Hancock echoes, laughing dryly with little humor. "Of course he goes _there,_ of all places. How freakin' typical."

"I hope you don't got it in your head somewhere to follow him."

"Why wouldn't I?" Hancock argued defensively. Shaun looked over, but quickly looked back down as Hancock got louder. "If he's out there somewhere, alone, why shouldn't I find him, bring him back? He never goes it alone, Valentine, this isn't like him!"

"Hancock," Nick said, staring him in the eye, "calm down."

Hancock shut his mouth, for the moment.

Valentine turned. "Ellie, cancel my appointment with Doc Sun and watch Shaun for a bit. I'm going out on a walk with our friend here."

 

***

 

"I don't see the damn point in this, Valentine," Hancock huffed, shoving his hands in the pocket of his coat.

He and Nick were walking outside the walls of Diamond City. It was safe at the particular moment, but they were ever-vigilant. You never knew out in the Wasteland.

Nick lit a cigarette, then offered one to Hancock. He grudgingly took it, only because he really needed a smoke.

"John, I'm no therapist, but you've got a lot of unresolved emotions that you're leaving buried."

"Fuck off, Valentine," Hancock mumbled as he lit his cig. "You know, Shaun likes the river in Diamond City quite a bit."

Nick took his cigarette out of his mouth and blew up a ring of smoke. "I remember when you were real young, playing out on the riverside with your brother. You were a cute kid."

"You hitting on my, Valentine?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Hardly."

"Good." Hancock pointed to the ring on his finger. "I'm taken, if you haven't noticed."

"Same here," Nick shrugged.

"Ooh, getting busy, Valentine? Who's the lucky guy or gal?"

"Gal. Former Vault Dweller, like our friend Garcia. But that's not important," Valentine said, waving it off. "You don't need to change the subject. I know you're going to charge into the unknown after Mateo, guns-a-blazing while shooting first and taking names later, but you're going to get yourself hurt."

"So Mateo _is_ doing something dangerous, then," Hancock grumbled.

"Of course he is. You know him even better than I do." Nick rolled his tongue over the cigarette's filter. "So you must know he's the kind of person to look Death in the eye and tell it that it'd look good in a red lace number."

Hancock snorted, looking down. "That's him, alright." He frowned. "I just... why wouldn't he tell me?"

"I don't know, John." Nick sighed. "Mateo was a broken man himself. He had a lot of shackled regret, deep down. We'd never know what he was going to do just to make sure he couldn't feel it. I think the Chems made it easier."

"They always do."

"But then Cait got clean, and he did, too."

"So he started to run out of things to drown it out? Of course he did."

"No, actually," Nick corrected. "He said that you were all the drug he needed. Actually, I think his exact words were 'I always feel high with him around'. Not exactly the words I would've used, but he made his point."

Hancock stared at the ground and smiled, eyes stinging. "He always had a way with words. Like you. 'I am become death, the destroyer of worlds' and that shit."

"Not like you, I hear. 'You're my kind of freak show,' or my favorite, 'nothing to lose but each other'."

"He told you about that?"

"We have to talk about something between cases." Nick puffed out another cloud of smoke. "Besides his son, you're the best thing in his life, John."

"I..." Hancock wiped at his eyes. "Ah, shit." He turned away and stomped out his cigarette, trying in vain to stop from crying.

"You alright, Hancock?"

"I'm fine. Really."

He felt a mechanical hand on his shoulder. "John, you don't have to hide anything from me."

"Shit." Hancock kicked at the glowing embers. "I miss him, Nick, I do. What if he's out there, somewhere, hurt? Alone? Or worse..."

"Don't think like that." Nick took his own cigarette out of his mouth and cast it nonchalantly to the ground. "He can handle himself."

"I know, I know, he turns everything that crosses him into a puddle of goo or riddles 'em with bullets." Hancock tried to smile, but it only resulted in more tears. "I dunno, Valentine, it just doesn't seem right. Why wouldn't he tell me? He just..." Hancock took a deep, shaky breath. "The last time I saw him, he said goodbye and then told me to take care of Shaun while he was gone. It sounded... I don't know, damn it, _final_? I don't _know_." Hancock turned, breath heavy and face running with tears. "Nick, I _need_ to find him."

Nick surprised Hancock by hugging him. Any other time, Hancock would make a crude joke, but now, he just hugged Nick back and cried, sobbing loud enough to hear the echoes from the empty skeletons of Boston's ancient buildings.

"Then find him," Nick said once Hancock's breathing became more stable. "I'll help anyway I can."

Hancock let go and wiped his eyes again. "I need to find Cait. Everyone says she's the last person he was with."

Nick tapped his chin. "I think I can help you with that. Let's get back to the office. I'm sure Shaun and Ellie are worried."

"Whatever. Oh, and Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we, uh, _not_ mention the hugging? I got a reputation to uphold, you know."

Nick made a little half-smile. "Of course, John."

 

***

 

Later that night, Nick joined Hancock for another smoke break with Hancock on the roof of Home Plate once Shaun had gone to sleep. Dogmeat could be seen sitting outside the front door, stealing attention from passersby.

"You sure you don't want to talk inside?" Hancock asked. "The loft's nice."

"Thanks, but I'd prefer to relax somewhere the two of you _haven't_ had sex."

"Heh, heh... uh, you're a bit out of luck, Valentine..."

Nick sighed and moved out of his chair to sit on the roof. "You two are morons."

"I know."

"So, Cait, huh." The smoke from Nick's mouth curled around his ears. "She was headed off for Shamrock Taphouse, last I knew. Heard she's making that her new home. She really likes it there. Says it embodies 'Irish spirit'."

"Ah, Cait. Figures she'd hang out in a bar." Hancock took his cig out of his mouth and flicked its most recent ashes to the roof. "I suppose I'll be headed there, next. Could I ask a favor, Valentine?"

"Of course."

"Well, the road to MAteo's gonna be real dangerous for a kid."

"What are you getting at?"

"I mean... Curie'd be a great guardian for the kid, but she's a bit too distracted. Piper'd be good too, but I mean, I'm on better terms with you." Hancock looking into Nick's glowing yellow eyes. "Would it be alright if I left him with you?"

Nick scratched his chin. "This isn't just about it being dangerous, is it?"

"Shaun shouldn't be hangin' around a guy like me," Hancock lamented. "I'm no good. I can't be a decent role model. He needs someone to look up to."

"He needs a dad."

"I'm going to find him, don't worry."

"I meant you, John."

Hancock opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking away. "I'm not his dad. I'd be a shit parent, anyways."

"You'd protect that kid to the ends of the earth, Hancock. I've seen you with him. You try to curse less, you keep him safe. You should give yourself credit."

"I don't deserve any. I shouldn't be a dad, and I never will be."

"Really?" Nick threw his cig over the edge of the roof and pulled out another one. "You and Mateo never talked about kids before Shaun came along? Never?"

"We..."

"I mean, you had an entire year to thing about it before Shaun came around."

"Hm." Hancock crossed his arms. "He does want kids. More. He said he and Nora were thinking about it before... well. You know. And there's no short supply of orphans out in the Commonwealth."

"And?"

"And _nothing_ ," Hancock snapped. "End of conversation, that's it."

Nick gave him a look that clearly meant he wasn't buying it.

"I got scared, okay? I smoke, I drink, I take Chems, I gamble, I take stupid risks." Hancock picked up his ash tray and threw it. "And then I find out Mateo's son's dead, and he adopted the synth kid. What the hell was I supposed to do? I love Mateo. I love Shaun. But I'm not a dad."

"Give it time," Nick said. "Speaking of time, it's about time I head back. I can only hold of Doctor Sun for so long." He stood and put the cigarette out with his foot. "By the way, thanks for throwing the ash tray."

"You're welcome." Hancock stood, and the two shook hands. "Thanks, Valentine."

"Any time. And good luck."

Hancock stayed on the roof for a little while long after Nick left, deciding to calm his nerves with Jet. They next morning, he and Shaun were leaving to find Cait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick's 'gal' is my main Sole Survivor, DiAngelo White, by the way. (Don't read my fic about them, I'm revising it. The first chapter is the only one that's up, and I'm revising that, too.)  
> Also, if you're a Nick Valentine/Hancock shipper, you are bad, and you should feel bad. (Nah, kidding. But no.)


	5. Riverside Blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Undertale soundtrack really helps me get into the zone while writing this. Do you think Hancock's more of a "Death by Glamour" or "Megalovania" kind of guy? (Nah. If he were an Undertale character, he'd definitely be Sans...)

Hancock held Shaun's hand in his left and a shotgun in his right as they walked on a path spanning the Charles River.

"Mr. Hancock," Shaun said, "how much longer until we get there?"

"Could still be a while, kid," Hancock answered, perusing the horizon carefully. "It's a dangerous place out here, and the sun's going down."

Shaun hopped over some rubble. "Where will we sleep if it goes down before we get there?"

"I dunno. An abandoned building? Maybe."

Shaun looked up at the sunset. "The sky's really pretty tonight."

"Yeah, it is." Hancock took one last look at the sky, then sighed. "Kid, we ain't gonna make it in time. We should start looking for some place to camp out."

"Right," Shaun said, nodding. "It's not safe at night."

"Exactly. Let's go; that building looks secure." Hancock led Shaun and Dogmeat to a large, dilapidated structure that might have once been an apartment complex. They climbed flights of stairs until they made it to a room that was mostly intact.

"Look!" Shaun ran over to where the window once was. "You can see the river."

Hancock walked over and put a hand on Shaun's head, pulling him back gently. "Stay away from the window. You never know what might see us."

Shaun frowned. "Okay." He glanced around the rest of the room. The kitchen had not been preserved, and was mostly covered in rubble. There were a few boxes of snack cakes on the floor; Hancock had heard from somewhere that Gen 3 synths like Shaun loved those. In the bedroom, there was a large double bed. The living room had a couch, and a bunch of broken electronics.

Hancock opened a can of dog food he'd picked up somewhere along the way for Dogmeat; when they'd left Home Plate, Curie had insisted they bring along plenty of food, so he and Shaun sat on the floor and dined on Fancy Lads' Snack Cakes, brahmin jerky, and Nuka-Colas. He'd thought about opening a beer, but Shaun always complained about the smell.

"Mr. Hancock?"

"Mm-hm."

Shaun looked at the window, which Hancock had covered with old, crusty blankets. "Do you think we'll ever find Dad?"

Hancock frowned. "'Course we will. Why?"

"We were just supposed to go to Diamond City. Now we're going to find Cait." Shaun sighed and put his chin in his hands, staring blankly at nothing. "I'm starting to think he's never coming back..."

"Hey, don't think like that." Hancock leaned against the wall. "We'll find him, and he'll be fine. You'll see."

Shaun looked back up at Hancock. "You don't sound very sure."

Well...

He wasn't.

But he wasn't going to tell Shaun that.

"Maybe you should be getting to bed," Hancock suggested. "We've got to go find Cait in the morning, and maybe if we get there early enough, she won't be drunk."

Shaun snorted, smiling a little bit.

"Yeah, it sounds ridiculous to me, too. Now get to bed. You can sleep in the big one. I'll take the couch."

"Alright." Shaun stood up and walked over to Hancock, and took him by surprise by hugging him. "Night, Dad."

 

Hancock tried sleeping on the couch, but it wasn't comfortable, and even chems couldn't make it better. Once the Med-X had worn off, he sat by the door to keep watch.

Dogmeat, noticing Hancock was lucid, trotted over and put his head in Hancock's lap.

Hancock frowned. "Er... good pooch?" he said, patting Dogmeat between the ears.

Dogmeat whimpered and looked up with sad brown eyes.

"You worrying about Mateo too? Heh. Don't. I think Shaun's worried enough for the three of us... and I'm starting to go crazy. I mean, I'm talking to a _dog_."

Seemingly unfazed by this, Dogmeat rolled over on Hancock's lap, showing his stomach.

"If you're looking for a belly rub, you're in the wrong place."

Dogmeat whined mournfully until Hancock finally gave in and rubbed the very large dog's stomach. "You're not a puppy, you know."

The dog, however, did not seem to care, and curled up in Hancock's lap before falling asleep. Warm, and with a giant dog in his lap, it wasn't long before Hancock dosed off as well.

 

They hit the road again early in the morning so as to avoid any enemies that might discourage their journey.

Shaun stuck close by, holding onto the end of Hancock's coat. Dogmeat walked ahead, sometimes lagging behind, trying to scout out any threats to the trio. Hancock had never interacted with the dog much, but he'd known him to be vastly loyal to Mateo and his friends.

"Mr. Hancock, do you think there are any Raiders nearby?" Shaun asked warily, glancing around.

"Probably. There're always-" Hancock stopped as he looked into Shaun's fearful brown eyes. "I mean, uh... probably not. They mostly come out at night, y'know?"

Shaun smiled a little bit and nodded. "Okay. Good."

It was hot; _really_ hot. He'd heard that, after the bombs hit, they'd had a nuclear winter for decades.

Now, it seemed like a nuclear winter would be a relief.

Shaun was singing to himself in Spanish, and from the little Spanish he knew, it was about windows.

" _Se abre, se cierra, se abre y se cierra_..."

It was a looping song, too, and it just came back around the same lyrics, Hancock noticed after a few verses.

"Kid, _no comprendo español_ ," Hancock grunted.

Shaun looked back. "Oh. Dad never taught you any?"

"Only a little."

"Hm." Shaun started jumping over cracks on the sidewalk. "I wonder what a Mexican ghoul would look like, Mr. Hancock."

"There probably are Mexican ghouls, kid."

"I know." Shaun thought for a minute. "I bet he'd have a cool name."

"Like?"

"I don't know. Raphael or Joaquin or Raul or something."

"Raul's a stupid name," Hancock laughed. "Miguel, now _that's_ a good name."

"Really? My dad had a cousin named Raul who lived in Mexico. At least, before the bombs dropped." Shaun frowned. "It's hard to avoid the cracks in the sidewalk if they're all destroyed like this."

"Why are you even doing that?"

Shaun looked back. "Dad said kids used to do stuff like 'cause they didn't want to 'break their mamas' backs'," Shaun explained. "If you stepped on a back, your mom's back broke."

"I..." Hancock bit his tongue to avoid saying that was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.

Shaun shrugged. "I guess I don't really need to worry about that anymore."

"Shaun..."

"Dad says Mom was really pretty," Shaun says. "She had tan skin and dark, short hair to here-" he made a chopping motion slightly bout his shoulders, "-and she had lots of freckles, a mark right here-" he pointed right below his eyes, "-and that she liked to wear maroon lipstick. She'd sing to me in Spanish, and she liked to wear blue."

"Ah." Hancock put his hands in his pockets. He remembered when Mateo had taken him to Vault 111 for the first time...

 

"Are you _sure_ it's this way?" Hancock asked.

"Sure!" Mateo had laughed. "I mean, I think. Oh... wait, there's two doors."

"Really?" Hancock sighed. They'd just gotten inside, and already Mateo was lost.

"There weren't two doors last time... I think."

"You _think._ "

"Well excuse me if I was more concerned with escaping from a vault full of dead people and giant cockroaches than I was with remembering which way the giant ice gun was." Mateo tapped his chin, then pointed to the right passage. "This way."

Hancock followed, glancing around. There was a window that showed more of those freezing chambers.

"You guys seriously didn't know they were putting you on ice?" Hancock asked, seeing the water dripping from reflective, silver-colored cloth tubes that connected from the chambers into tanks. In all honesty, it seemed rather obvious.

"In hour defense, we'd just watched someone drop a nuke on the Commonwealth." Mateo frowned. "Hm. I'm not sure if this is the right... way..."

"Why'd you stop?"

Mateo had halted in front of an open chamber. Inside there was the body of a woman, covered in frost; she had skin a little bit darker than Mateo's, a soft face, and a black bob. She was wearing a Vault 111 outfit, similar to the one Mateo often put on. Hancock would have thought her a random woman, were it not for the fact that Mateo was fiddling with one of the two rings he always wore.

"Nora," Mateo whispered, nodding in confirmation.

"Damn," Hancock said quietly, glancing from her body to Mateo. "Hey, look, if you wanna get outta here..."

Mateo shook his head. "It's fine." He turned, forcing a smile. "Now, about that Cryo gun..."

 

Hancock and Shaun finally reached Shamrock Taphouse in the mid-afternoon; there were turrets set up outside, not in use, but they were there. The sign had been freshly painted a new shade of green, so someone had definitely been here.

On another, less-welcoming note, the place was also surrounded by the bodies of Raiders.

Hancock had picked Shaun up and told him to close his eyes and count to ten.

"One..."

The farther away from the Taphouse they were, the less gruesome the deaths.

"Two... Three..."

But the closer they got, the bloodier it was. Some had stepped on mines, others in traps.

"Four... Five... Six..."

What had they wanted? Did they want something from Cait? Or had something far worse happen here?

"Seven... Eight..."

Hancock held his breath at the sight of Raider heads near the entrance, a lot of bodies decimated and burned. Cait's favorite weapon _was_ the flamethrower she'd been given for Christmas.

"Nine..."

Hancock kicked open the door, and was met with a shotgun to the face.

"YOU'VE GOT A LOTTA NERVE T'BE-" Cait lowered the gun and squinted. "Hancock?"

"Ten!" Shaun opened his eyes and turned. "Aunt Cait!"

"Well, I'll be damned," Cait laughed. "Oh, wait. I'm supposed to watch m' language around the little one. C'mere, son," she said, reaching for Shaun. Dogmeat ran up to her and licked her boots. "Well, Hancock, don't just stand there. Come on in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My cousin was watching "Space Jam" and someone asked for M.J.'s "John Hancock" and I immediately looked up like "HOW DO THEY KNOW?!" before I realized it was a movie.  
> I need some sleep...


	6. Blue, Blue Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hancock and Shaun finally catch up with Cait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I MADE IT TO 300 HITS!!! Oh my gosh, thank you all so much! And thank you for all the comments/kudos people have been leaving me. I don't know how this happened! (Imagine me squee-ing in a corner, that is me.)

"Cait, not to judge your decorating, but... what the _hell_ happened here?"

After a few minutes of a touchng reunion, Cait sent Shaun to the back rooms to play while she and Hancock talked over drinks. He was sitting at the bar, and she was standing over the drinking buddy. (There was a funny story behind that, but Cait had been there, not Hancock, so he couldn't very well tell it.)

Cait looked up from where she was pouring beers for them from the Drinking Buddy. "Some Raiders 'ere were after Garcia," she explains. "Fortunately for Mateo, 'e wasn't 'ere. Unfortunately for the Raiders, _I_ was." She grinned smugly before downing an entire pint.

"Wait- there were Raiders after Mateo? Why?"

Cait shrugged. "Be damned if I know. If I had to guess, I'd say that lady Garcia's after put 'em up to this."

"Yeah, about that..." Hancock threw the folder he'd gotten from Valentine onto the bar.

She frowned, picking up the folder and rifling through it. "Yeh, I remember this. What about it?" She glanced from it to him, then rolled her eyes. "Oh, come _on_. Yer not really lookin' for him, are you?"

"I am."

"Damnit," She groaned, kicking over a small collection of Gwinnett bottles. "Shite! I knew it! I _told_ that son of a-"

"Hey, I know we're both upset, but Shaun's running around here somewhere, so let's watch the _fucking language_."

Cait sighed. "Look, if you want me to talk, you're either gonna need to get me sober- which ain't happenin'- or you're gonna have to wait until I murder a few pints."

He leaned against the bar. "Be my guest. I could use a few drinks anyways."

She turned around and bent over to turn on a radio in the back. "Stow it, Hancock. I know you're lookin' at me arse. I can _tell._ "

"You know me well, Cait. But not today."

Some old song started playing on the radio.

"Ah, some Sinatra, then," Hancock mused.

"Blue Moon," Cait purred. "I love this song."

She poured him a drink, then poured her own. They toasted to Frank Sinatra...

And then got wasted.

"So..." Hancock said, slamming down his fourth (or fifth?) drink. "About that case..."

Cait groaned. "I told Mateo not to go after that stupid _bitch_!"

"Sh... Shaun could still hear you."

"Ah, fuck that. That old hag is one of th' scientist who took... well, you know. Mateo just wants answers, I think. I ain't sure. You can never be sure with 'im."

Hancock sighed, tracing the mouth of his bottle with his finger. "I know more than anyone, trust me."

"Yeh." Cait looked down at the bottle in her hand. "So I s'pose there's not stoppin' ya goin' after Garcia."

"You'd suppose right."

She sighed. "Well... I reckon your next destination'll be the Castle. He said 'e was gonna go down there after Diamond City, get some o' them Minutemen to help him."

"The Castle." Hancock groaned and covered his face with his hands. "Lovely."

"At least it's not the Prydwen," Cait joked.

"Ah, yes, the Brotherhood of Douches. What a lovely bunch, eh?"

Cait giggled and threw back her drink, swallowing the rest in a quick gulp. She wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist before saying, "Y'know, I could go with you."

Hancock frowned contemplatively. "You could."

"Some extra firepower. It's pretty dangerous, jus' a man an' a kid an' a dog wanderin' the Commonwealth. You could use me."

"That's... something to consider."

Cait patted her drinking buddy. "I'd miss this place, but, oh, I could use a change of scenery. All these raiders comin' by get real dull after so long. Y' run out of interestin' ways to kill 'em."

"Uh... yeah."

Cait crossed her arms. "Well, you look like y' could use some real R n' R. Go t' bed, I'll take care of Shaun for y'."

Hancock laughed. "Now there's a scary thought."

"Hey. I can hold m' liquor better than some folk. Like a certain ghoul, fer instance."

She was right. Hancock could feel a drunken sleepiness coming over him. It'd been days since he'd had a good rest without constantly waking up, worried something bad was coming for him- or worse, Shaun- in the night.

"I've set up some rooms down the hall," she said. "I've only got but one bed; Shaun can have that. I've a couch somewhere 'round here. Don't quite recall where."

"Thanks, Cait."

"Anytime, rot-face."

 

***

 

"So where do we go from 'ere?"

"The Castle's not that far, but we're running low on supplies. And, no offense, but I don't think alcohol and coffee's sufficient enough to get us there."

Cait sighed. "Y'know, I'd disagree with you any other time."

Hancock reclined on the sofa. Shaun had long since been put to bed, although whether or not he was sleeping currently was debatable. Hancock and Cait were sitting on her couch (which they'd finally found leaning against one of the back doors alongside a desk and a crate of bourbon), discussing their next move.

Cait thought for a minute, brushing strands of red hair from her face. "We could go t' Goodneighbor, first."

"That's... actually not a bad idea. I've been missing my good-old town. We may as well pay a visit." He smirked. "I'll think on it. I've missed my old haunt, anyhow."

"Good." The Irishwoman crossed her arms behind her head as she stretched. "I 'ear it's a nice town. Good on you, Hancock."

"Yeah. I'm proud of the place. 'Of the people, for the people,' you know?"

"I do." Cait frowned suddenly, as Dogmeat's barks resounded throughout the taphouse. "Y' 'ear that?"

"Yeah."

They each leaned down and picked up their respective guns before walking carefully towards the door. Dogmeat was crouched in front of it, growling.

"'G'boy," Cait said, patting the dog's head. "Y'smell somethin' bad?"

Dogmeat snarled lowly.

Cait nodded to Hancock, and they each pressed themselves up against either side of the door. Cait put her hand on the doorknob and mouthed, _One... two... three..._

She swung the door open and pointed her gun at the head of the figure standing in front of it and, as they tried to grab at the barrel, she pulled the trigger. Instead of a scream, or even the sound of a bullet cracking a skull, there was a sound of mechanical components blowing apart.

"What the-" Cait stepped back, appalled, dropping her gun. "It's one of them damned synths!"

It was- a Gen 1 synth, to be exact. It was now collapsed over the threshold of Cait's taphouse, it's head blown to bits. It was unarmed, but there was something clutched in its hand.

Hancock leaned down and struggled to remove the small piece of paper from its hand, unfolding the crumpled slip to read what it had to say.

 

_Dear Mr. Garcia,_

_I know you have been trying to track me down. I have no quarrel with you, sir, but if you insist upon finding me, I will not relent. No one must come where I am hidden. You will not find me and return to those you hold dear alive, whether by my hand or natural ones._

_So go on. Continue your search, if you must. You cannot say I didn't warn you. You've brought whatever comes to you or your fellows upon yourself._

_I will not allow my safety to be compromised._

_Give up._

_R._

 

While Hancock read the sinister note, dumbfounded, Cait closed the door quickly. "Get Shaun. Now."

"What?" Hancock inquired hesitantly, detecting the note of fear in her voice.

"There are more. Outside. Get Shaun and hurry to the roof; I'll grab our things and meet you there."

"But-"

"Damnit, Hancock, go _now_!" She whisper-shouted, punching his shoulder- hard.

"R-right." He turned and dashed to Shaun, shoving the note in his pocket. A few f-bombs went through his mind as he raced towards where the kid was sleeping.

"Shaun!"

"Yeah?" he answered, sitting up and opening his eyes immediately. "I heard a gunshot. Is everything okay?"

"It's- it's complicated," Hancock said. He scooped Shaun into his arms. "But we've got to go, kiddo."

Shaun wrapped his arms around Hancock's shoulders. "Where's Aunt Cait?"

"She's- preoccupied," Hancock said hurriedly. "Hey, Shaun, let's play another game, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Just... close your eyes, cover your ears, and sing to yourself. whatever you want. I'll tell you when to stop, okay?"

Shaun nodded. "What can I sing?"

"Anything.

"Anything?"

Hancock nodded. "Anything."

"What if I finish the song?"

"Sing another one."

"Okay." Shaun put his hands over his ears, closed his brown eyes, and began to sing "Butcher Pete, Part 1". Hancock towards the ladder, held Shaun with one arm, and painstakingly climbed up. It was difficult, having only one free hand, but he managed to get to the top, pulling himself and Shaun to the roof. Hancock wheezed and stood up, cradling Shaun with both arms; he groaned and shifted Shaun's weight to carry him more easily. Shaun buried his head between his arm and Hancock's collar, but didn't open his eyes or stop singing.

Hancock peered over the edge; the building was surrounded by synths, but who knew how many more there were that he couldn't see?

Suddenly feeling sick to his stomach, he backed away from the edge, waiting for Cait.

A minute went by.

Then two.

Hancock could feel cold sweat going down his neck; where _was_ she?

Finally- after too long- Hancock heard, "Get over here you fuckin' _mutt,_ I'm tryin' t' save yer _life_!"

Hancock had never been more relieved to hear the Irishwoman curse.

Cait's head finally poked over the top of the ladder, Dogmeat slung over her shoulders as well as three backpacks- hers, Hancock's and Shaun's.

"Cait," Hancock began, rushing over hand holding out one hand to help her up, "never let me forget how utterly badass you are."

She wheezed, groaning as she got to the top. "Believe me, I won't."

"What how?" Hancock asked, returning his arm to wrap around Shaun while Cait dropped the dog.

"We-" Cait frowned. "Is Shaun _singin_ '?"

"Long story."

She shook her head. "Whatever. We jump to the next roof. I got some boards set up. C'mon."

Cait ran towards the next building over, where she'd lain boards across.

"Incase of a timely escape," she whispered quickly. "Like _now_."

She coaxed Dogmeat across first. Tail between his legs, the pooch walked across hesitantly.

"Just how safe are these boards, Cait?" Hancock asked.

Cait glanced back at him. "Well, we're about t' find out, ain't we?"

She began to walk carefully across. She was almost to the edge when the boards suddenly collapsed beneath her.

"C-" Hancock bit his tongue to stop himself from screaming. " _Cait_ _?_ " He whispered.

"I'm okay," she whispered back. Hancock squinted; she was dangling from the edge of the other building, having caught the ledge just in time. She hoisted herself up with a grunt, Dogmeat running and licking the back of her hand. "Yeah, yeah, thanks, mutt." She turned. "Yer gonna have t' throw me the kid."

Hancock's heart clenched up in fear as he stepped back from the ledge.

"Hancock, it's th' only way."

Still terrified, Hancock bit down his fear as he set Shaun down. The boy instantly stopped singing, looking up at Hancock with expectant brown eyes. "Are we going somewhere, Mr. Hancock?"

"Yes," Hancock answered, putting his hands on Shaun's shoulders. "But we've got a problem. The bridge to the other roof broke."

"Why are we on the roof?"

"Again, long story. But I need to throw you across."

" _What_?!"

"Sh, sh!" Hancock shushed. "Listen. Do you trust me?"

"I..." Shaun looked back at Cait.

"It's okay t' be scared, Shaun," she said.

Shaun looked back at Hancock and nodded. "I trust you, Dad."

Hancock hugged the boy standing in front of him, maybe a bit too tightly, but he didn't care. "I'll be careful, I promise."

Shaun hugged him back, letting go briefly before Hancock picked him up once more. Hancock was careful not to look over the edge.

"Ready?"

Once again, he was answered with a nod.

"Right. One... two... _three_!"

Hancock three Shaun over the gap between the buildings. Eyes widening, breath hitching, he clutched the hems of his sleeves, watching with fear...

...As Shaun landed safely in Cait's arms, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders, shaking.

Cait put a hand in his hair. "It's okay, it's okay," she assured him, although she was looking at Hancock.

Hancock let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding, relieved. It was his turn. He peered down the gap. It was a long way down...

He took a deep breath and a step back.

Crushing down every fear inside of him, he jumped.

 

***

 

"Mr. Hancock?"

"Yeah, Shaun?"

"That was really scary, when you threw me."

Hancock gripped Shaun's hand a bit more tightly. "I know, Shaun."

"Were... were you scared, too?"

"Ha, me? Scared?" Hancock shook his head. "Of course I was. I was terrified."

"Oh." Shaun went silent, then leaned his head against Hancock's arm as they'd walked. They'd climbed down the fire escape of the next building over, careful to avoid the nearby synths, but they hadn't seem to notice their odd little group of four. Now, they were on their way to Goodneighbor, Cait and Dogmeat in tow. "Do you get scared a lot?"

"All the time."

"You don't _seem_ scared."

"Of course I don't. If I looked scared all the time, how do you think that will affect the people around me?"

Shaun nodded. "I hadn't thought about that. Yeah. I think I understand."

"Alright, then."

"Can I tell you something, Mr. Hancock?"

"Of course, kid. Anything."

"A lot of times, when we're out in the Commonwealth, I get scared. Like, _really_ scared."

"I understand."

"But, when I think of finding Dad... and all of my friends in the Commonwealth... I don't feel so scared anymore," Shaun continued, looking Hancock straight in the eye. "I want to make the Commonwealth less scary, one day."

Hancock stared at the child, whose hand he was holding, and thought of Mateo. Even though he was a nut, whose motives were always a bit questionable, at the end of the day he'd always answer the question 'why' with one answer:

 _I want the world to be better than it is. Better than it was. And sitting around, making naïve plans for doing it, isn't as good as actually_ doing _it._ And then he'd smile, his alarmingly perfect with teeth set against sun-kissed brown skin, and say, _You feel me?_

Hancock smiled sadly and squeezed Shaun's hand reassuringly. "You're a lot like your dad, Shaun."

"Do you think he'd be... proud of me?"

"He already is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAAH! I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long! I finally got internet, but I still have to walk to my grandmother's house to have a computer I can use to update AO3 (my school-sanctioned laptop has it blocked). Also, it's HALLOWEEN! And, yes, it is an ENTIRE MONTH, not one holiday. My birthday being a week after the ACTUAL holiday, I plan to do a mass-update of several of my works by then. 'Bye, and Happy Halloween!


	7. Moonlight Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hancock, Cait, Dogmeat and Shaun make their way through Super Mutant-infested Boston to get to Goodneighbor, with only one (or two?) scratches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE MAC IS BACK!!  
> Albeit late in the chapter. Enjoy the milk of human compassion, peeps!

Hancock crouched down, peering out of his cover and into the darkness. Cait was sneaking to safety with Shaun. Holding his shotgun tightly to his chest, the Ghoul perused his surroundings.

Muties, everywhere.

Dogmeat looked up at Hancock, who silently cursed himself for getting them in this situation. They should have taken the fallen raised highway bridge. But the raiders and Gunners were usually staking out up there, and he'd thought this would be safer.

He'd thought wrong, evidently.

"Stay here, pooch," he said, patting Dogmeat's head.

He'd have to be stealthy. He crept around the ruble, aiming his shotgun at a mutant's head- no, that wouldn't work. He positioned it towards the ugly mutie's chest, then fired a shot. The Super Mutant grunted as Hancock quickly rolled back to cover.

"What was that?" Another mutie asked, coming to investigate his dead friend. Hancock aimed and fired, moving quickly to another shelter. Dogmeat smartly stayed away, hiding.

"What?"

 _Boom_.

Third down.

 _Boom_.

Fourth.

He continued- God, it was a good thing Super Mutants were so damned stupid- for a long time. A long, tedious time. He wished more muties were like Strong- nice, always ranting about the 'milk of human compassion'. (Apparently Strong was _too good_ for ghoulish compassion. That was fine by Hancock.) He had several close calls, but anytime one got to close, Cait would duck out of cover and shoot it. Hancock didn't like that she was compromising Shaun's safety, but if Hancock died, Shaun would have no one left.

He wouldn't have that.

Once he'd killed his eighth mutant and was out of bullets, he took his chance. Hancock bolted from cover, alerting the other mutants to his presence.

" _Ghoul_!" One yelled.

" _Eat its rotten flesh_!" Chimed another.

Hancock hated the other.

"Cait! Shaun! Door! _Now_!" He shouted, pointing at the Goodneighbor entrance. Cait picked Shaun up and ran, making it quickly. She threw open the door- followed by Dogmeat, _good dog_ \- then quickly shut it. Hancock sighed with relief. Shaun was safe.

He then quickly remembered that, unlike Shaun, he was _not_ safe.

"Get the ghoul!"

"Eat his flesh!"

Hancock screamed in agony as pain shot up his leg. He'd taken a bullet straight to the calf. Stumbling, he continued towards the door- he couldn't stop here. He had to get to Goodneighbor, get to Shaun, find Mateo.

Another bullet hit his shoulder. He cried out, almost falling, but he couldn't. He couldn't fall.

He couldn't die here.

Hancock gritted his teeth, shambling towards the door. He would make it. _He would not die here._

He would _not_ die. Not without seeing Mateo's face one more time.

Finally, he reached the door. He grabbed the handle with his good arm, opened the doors, and fell inside. He heard turrets firing up, drifters shouting, the city watchmen running with their weapons, and then nothing as he lost consciousness.

 

***

 

Hancock woke up alone in his room in the Statehouse. He was, at first, confused- why was he only in his underwear, and why did his leg and right arm hurt so much?

He soon remembered the Super Mutant attack. He scowled; he couldn't _believe_ he'd almost been killed off by muties. _Muties_ , of all things.

Painfully rising to his feet, Hancock saw his coat and other clothes neatly folded nearby. He dressed, cursing himself a bit, then made his way out-

And was almost knocked down immediately by Fahrenheit's hug.

"Hancock!" she cried happily. "You fucking idiot, do you know how worried I was? I was going to _kill_ you if you died!"

"Hey, Fahrenheit," he said, cracking a smile. He really was back in Goodneighbor.

"Yeah, all I get is a ' _hey_ ', isn't it, you son of a bitch?" she scoffed, punching him.

"Hey, I'll have you know, Martha McDonough was a kind and loving woman."

"Shut the hell up. Your kid's playing with MacCready's son outside."

"He's not my-" Hancock sighed, rolling his eyes. "Whatever. I'll be out in a minute."

Fahrenheit smirked, leaving him alone. Once she was gone, Hancock sighed, running a hand over his bald head. For some reason, his hat wasn't included with his outfit. Thinking little of it, he followed the way his former bodyguard had left to the outside.

 

Hancock had to admit, everyone was quite happy to see him.

The former mayor of Goodneighbor had been showered in greetings and praise as soon as he'd stepped outside. People were practically throwing themselves on him. Fred the Junkie had wept tears of joy and given him many sloppy, awkward hugs.

Despite being happy with getting all this attention, Hancock was anxious to see Shaun. He hoped the kid hadn't been too worried. After all, Hancock was out for almost a day. That couldn't have been easy on him.

But, regardless, when Hancock found him, he was playing in the streets, Cait and MacCready looking on.

"Rawr!" A small boy, blue eyes and brown hair, chased Shaun through the streets. "I'm a deathclaw, and I'mma gonna _eat you_!"

"Oh, no!" Shaun cried in feigned terror, laughing and effectively ruining the feeling of fear. "But, wait! I'm... _the great Mayor Hancock_!"

Hancock shook his head as Shaun put on his tri-corner hat, beaming. The other boy, clearly MacCready's son Duncan, fell back. "Oh, no! I can't beat you! Ugh, I'm _dead_." Duncan fell onto his back, eyes closed and tongue out of his mouth.

MacCready, next to Cait on a bench, laughed. "Alright, Duncan, say goodbye to Shaun, we gotta head home."

"I can't. I'm dead."

"He's dead," Shaun clarified.

"Alright, well, if my son is dead, I guess that means _I_ get all the mac 'n cheese all to myself tonight."

" _Nooo_!" Duncan jumped to his feet. "I can back to life! See?!"

"Ha." MacCready stood, opening his arms. "C'mere you little molerat."

Laughing, Duncan ran into his father's arms, the two wrapping each other in a hug. Honestly, it was so sickeningly sweet, it would've made Hancock's teeth more rotten than MacCready's.

" _Mr. Hancock_!"

Hancock smirked as Shaun ran up to him, hugging his legs. "Oh my gosh, I thought you were going to _die_!"

"It's alright, Shaun, I'm..." Hancock frowned, noticing that there were actual tears in Shaun's eyes. "Oh. Hey, kid, don't worry." Hancock leaned down as Shaun released him, putting a hand on his hat, resting on the boy's head. "I'm fine. See? It's just a scratch."

Shaun sniffed. "Really?"

"Yeah." Hancock hugged Shaun. "Really."

Shaun sniffed again, wiping his nose with his arms before tightening them around Hancock. "I was really, _really_ scared, Dad."

"I know, Shaun."'

"Please don't get hurt like that again?"

"Ha. I don't plan to."

"Good, 'cause I don't wanna lose _two_ dads. I mean... one dad, and one Hancock."

Hancock chuckled. "It's alright, kid. I'm not going out anytime soon."

Shaun nodded. "Oh!" He removed Hancock's hat, returning it to its rightful head. "I took this while you were sleeping. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, kid." Hancock patted Shaun's shoulders, then stood.

"Heh, Hancock!" MacCready shouted. He was giving his son a piggyback ride, walking up to Hancock and Shaun. "Nice to see you not dead. Well, on the inside. All you ghouls look dead on the outside."

"Wow. Thanks, Mac."

"Anytime."

"Daddy," Duncan began, "is this Shaun's dad?"

"One of 'em," MacCready mumbled.

Hancock opened his mouth to correct him, but gave up.

He'd do it later.

 

The MacCreadies, being gracious hosts, naturally invited Hancock, Shaun, Cait, and Dogmeat over for dinner.

Duncan and Shaun were dancing to the radio with Dogmeat in the other room after their hearty meal of radstag and Blamco mac 'n cheese, while Cait was sleeping upstairs in MacCready's bed. He and Hancock were downstairs on the couch, watching the boys.

"Kids really are a riot, aren't they?" MacCready chuckled.

"Yeah. Nice place you got here."

"Isn't it? It's one of those old warehouses Garcia cleared out for Whitechapel Charlie. I thought I may as well make a real home for Duncan and myself out here, so I fixed this place up, and had him sent over with one of my friends from Little Lamplight. Could always trust old Red. She looked after him when he was..." MacCready swallowed. "Well, I've gotta keep him nearby, as much as I can, now. I don't want to risk losing him ever again."

"So you've sworn off the merc life for good?"

"He-" Mac glanced at his son. "Heck yes. Anything for Duncan. Just like I'm sure you'd do anything for Shaun."

Hancock looked at Mateo's son, dancing next to his friend, moonlight streaming through the holes in the ceiling, shining on his hair. In that moment, Hancock thought of forbidden nights in Diamond City, dancing with Mateo in the city lights.

Hancock smiled, knowing he'd never let anything happen to that child.

"Yeah. I would."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday!! Happy N7 Day to all the Mass Effect fans out there! (Yes, my birthday is N7 Day; I'm great.)


	8. Dance on Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hancock has a few revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I really missed out, what with not romancing MacCready in a single playthrough. (Though my literally playstyle is going straight to Goodneighbor?) I never actually romanced anyone in my main PT, though... (CURSE YOU, BETHESDA, FOR MAKING BOTH DEACON AND VALENTINE NONROMANCEABLE AND MAKING FEMALE CHARACTERS I'M NOT ATTRACTED TO IN THE SLIGHTEST EXCEPT FOR MAGNOLIA BUT STILL CURSE YOU FOR HER NOT-REALLY ROMANCE! CUUUUUUURSE YOOOOU)

Hancock opened his eyes, sitting up and groaning. His side instantly flared up in pain- he’d forgotten completely about his injury. It was healing, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

He was sitting on an old mattress on the floor, which hadn’t made for a comfortable sleep- though he wasn’t exactly used to sleeping comfortably. Nearby, Cait was sleeping on MacCready’s couch, a half-empty bottle of Gwinnett in her hand. Her red hair was plastered to one side of her face, and she was snoring loudly. Hancock smirked, then glanced around. It was either late at night or early morning, so MacCready and the boys were probably upstairs.

Hold his wounded side tenderly, Hancock made his way up the stairs. For a building in which many people had been brutally shot to death-  _many_ people- MacCready had cleaned this place up nicely. There was significantly less dirt, the holes in the ceilings and floors had been (somewhat) patched up, and the furniture and appliances had been arranged in an almost livable way. There were posters and pictures hanging on the wall- Silver Shroud promos, cut-outs from comic books, and a lot of postcards for a place called "Little Lamplight" that he was sure Mac had mentioned a time or two.

On the second floor, a dim light was on in one of the rooms. Hancock peered inside to find the two boys sleeping soundly- Duncan was on a small, pull-out mattress on the floor, having allowed Shaun to sleep in his bed. Shaun himself was nestled snugly under dirty blankets, smiling serenely in his dreams.

Hancock couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"Ain't it great?"

The ghoul looked up as MacCready approached, leaning in the door frame next to them.

"What is?" Hancock asked.

Mac snorted. "You know."

He gestured towards the boys.

"You never get a prouder feeling than watching your kid," MacCready continued. "Whether they're playing, sleeping, or, heck, even eating... as long as they're safe... you know you've done  _something_ good."

Hancock looked at Shaun, who was still at peace in his sleep.

"I haven't done too many good things in my life," Hancock answered plainly.

"Hell, neither have I. But if Duncan grows up, happy and healthy, and does good things... then I know I'm not a totally fuck-up."

"Nngh... Daddy..." Duncan said, lazy eyes opening as he awoke gently. "You swore..."

"Heh. Sorry, love. Won't happen again."

Duncan smiled before returning to his slumber.

"He's a cute kid, Mac,"  Hancock said.

"Hm." MacCready smirked. "Yeah. He takes after his mother."

"I'm sure you were a cute kid, too."

"Who, me? Nah. No kid who cusses more than anyone else in the Capital Wasteland is 'cute'. I didn't see too many mungos when I was a kid in Little Lamplight, and I'm sure 'cute' wasn't a word they'd use to desrcibe _me._ " MacCready scratched his beard. "Although, there was this one Vault Dweller girl who thought all of us Little Lamplighters were the most precious kids she'd ever come across. 'Cept Princess, of course."

"You ever hear from your friends in Little Lamplight?"

Mac snorted. "Hmph. Nah. I haven't got any friends in Little Lamplight. No mungos allowed- just kids. You have to leave once you hit sixteen. I reckon I've never met a single person who lives there now. All my friends are either in Bigtown, or god-knows-where. I think Red ended up going West. Stinky's probably dead."

A city run by children...

Hancock had never heard of such a thing.

He figured it was just about as chaotic as Goodneighbor, though.

He wondered how Shaun- who would always be a child- would do in a place like that.

"What's the Capital Wasteland like, Mac?"

"Mm... same as here: looks like shit."

" _Daddy_..."

"Duncan, you need to either be asleep or let me know when you're awake.

"Anyways, there's just a lot more water, and a lot more open space. It's really brown, too." MacCready smiled nostalgically. "Ah, but it was home. There were so many historic statues. Not that I cared about history, but the fact that someone could actually  _make_ something like that... you'd never see that happen nowadays.

"Oh, I dunno. I've heard that out West on of the bigshot factions built a statue."

"Yeah, and I've also heard from some of my merc buddies that it was a bullsh- er, a stupid move on their part. They could have used all that junk metal to help people or build shelters or some shtick."

"Dad..."

"I said ' _shtick_ ', Duncan, geez, would you lay off?" Mac chuckled. "But, yeah. It was just some bigshots making a show of power. Nothing's good out West. It's even worse than out here."

"That's hard to imagine," Hancock snorted.

"No, really. Trust me. It's  _bad_."

"Well, I guess I'll take your word for it, Mac," Hancock said finally. "But I gotta get Shaun up at some point."

"Yeah, well. It's a long trek to the Castle." Mac turned so that he faced Hancock completely. "Make sure Garvey doesn't hassle you for help too much. I'm sure there's a settlement out there that would just  _love_ your help."

"Heh, well. I'm never too opposed to helping people in need."

"It'll be the death of you, Hancock."

"Better it be the death of me than innocent people."

"Hm." MacCready smiled. "You're still noble as ever."

Hancock smiled back before walking into the boys' room. "I'm not."

 

***

 

Hancock, Cait, Shaun, and Dogmeat left Goodneighbor the next day.

There had been a lot of teary goodbyes from the drifters as their beloved mayor left again, and a lot of heartfelt punches on the arm from Fahrenheit (a little  _too_ heartfelt, if the bruises were to say anything) as the group packed up to leave.

Cait hit Daisy's before leaving to pack up on supplies (and alcohol, naturally) while Hancock accepted all the farewells; Shaun and Dogmeat were off to the side with the MacCreadies while the two boys exchanged goodbyes and toys to remember each other by until they met again.

It took a long time, but once they finally hit the road, Hancock was a bit disappointed. Even though leaving Goodneighbor had been  _his_ choice, whenever he returned, he felt worse for wear after leaving- like a raggedness in his soul.

It was like homesickness, right from the start.

They didn't talk all the way through Boston- it was dangerous, and they needed to stay hidden- but once they'd taken refuge at Bunker Hill for the night, Cait and Hancock took the time to talk while the kid and the dog played with the children there.

"I can't believe they let us in," Cait said, shaking her head in disbelief as she and Hancock sat on their respective rental cots.

"Yeah, well. Mateo's earned a lot of favors here. The least they could do was give us a place to crash for the night."

"Yeh..." Cait sighed. "Do you think we'll ever find 'im, Hancock?"

The ghoul frowned.

"...Well?"

"I don't like to think about it, Cait."

"Hancock. If ya don't think about it, it means ya don't really believe it."

He didn't like how this conversations was going so far.

"Now, don't get all mad," Cait continued, propping herself up on her elbows, "I don't want to upset ya."

"Well, consider me upset."

"Don't be like that. Just... 'ear me out."

Hancock paused, then sighed and said, "Go on, then."

"We are  _goin_ ' to find Mateo," she told him. "And don't say nothin' like, 'Well, there's a possibility that' and all that shite. If you don't convince yerself that we are going to find 'im without a shadow of a doubt, it ain't just  _you_ that yer bringin' down." Cait glanced outside. "That kid needs his dad, and though you don't consider yerself as such, he needs  _you_. If you ain't convinced yerself that Mateo's out there, he'll see that. And he'll believe it, too."

Hancock stared into space. He'd never really thought about that.

And, as much as he hated to admit it, she was right.

"Just a thought," she said, "no need to heed it." The Irishwoman stood, stretching. "Welp, I'mma head to the bar. See what they have for me to murder there."

"You do that," Hancock said, watching as she exited the inn, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

After a while, he considered what she'd said.

He knew Mateo was out there- yet he doubted it and second-guessed constantly.

Closing his eyes, he imagined the Vault Dweller as he'd always been- tall, roguishly handsome (or, maybe, handsomely roguish), his hair shaved at the sides and pushed back. His dark skin covered in dirt, the blue Vault suit covered in makeshift armor, a permanent smirk written across his face. He'd turn and look at Hancock with a devious glint in his dark eyes, and say that their next adventure awaited them.

Hancock's eyes stung, and he clenched his jaw. He  _wanted_ Mateo back- his very soul ached for it- but there was nothing he could do. Not right now.

He sat up and began to rifle through his back. Alcohol wouldn't be enough to dull this pain. Mentats would only enhance his thinking, so his favorite Chem was out.

No, he needed something to dull his thoughts, to make him numb.

Med-X or Jet were his best options. His hands finally grasped a cold, metal syringe. He'd just put the needle to his arm when he heard a sound at the door.

"D...Dad?"

Hancock whipped around to see Shaun standing in the doorway, gripping the frame and staring at Hancock, wide-eyed.

"Shaun!" Hancock shouted, hastily hiding the Med-X under the mattress.

"Er, Mr. Hancock, I-" Shaun's brow furrowed. "I thought you promised not to do that anymore."

"I..."

Shaun stepped back, and Hancock sighed, running a hand over his bald head. "Don't... I'm sorry."

The child frowned, drawing back a bit more. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be." Hancock held out an arm and motioned for Shaun to come to him. Hesitating, Shaun eventually complied, sitting on Hancock's lap and leaning his head on the ghoul's shoulder.

"Daddy told me you promised you weren't going to do that anymore," Shaun continued, eyes watery. "He said it's bad for you."

"I know it is."

"Than why do you do it?"

"It's..." Hancock sighed. "It's complicated. It just... it helps me forget."

"Why would you ever want to forget anything?" Shaun asked. "Memories are important." The child paused, then said, "Even the bad ones."

"Heh. That's pretty solid advice for coming from a kid." Hancock sighed and groaned, rubbing his head and neck. "I know it's bad for me, kiddo. And I know I shouldn't do it."

Shaun looked at him with big, tear-filled eyes. Hancock felt a twinge of pain inside of him. He knew he needed to change- he'd known for a long time- but he'd never truly felt driven to.

Not until now.

"I'll tell you what, Shaun," Hancock said, tousling the kid's brown hair. "I'll stop. For you."

Shaun smiled, sniffing and wiping his eyes. "...Really?"

"Really."

"You don't need them to forget or feel happy?"

"No, Shaun. I don't need them to feel happy. After all..." Hancock wrapped his arms around his lover's son. "I've got you, ya little tyke."

"Ha, ha- stop it!" Shaun laughed, squirming in Hancock's grasp. "You're squishing me, Dad!"

"Alright, alright," Hancock laughed, letting Shaun go. "I don't want to suffocate you or anything."

"Hee..." Shaun beamed at him, and it struck Hancock that, when Shaun was truly happy, he really did look like Mateo.

 

*** 

 

Cait didn't return with Dogmeat for a while, but by the time she did, Shaun was fast asleep on Hancock's arm.

She looked Hancock- who was still awake- up and down before smiling and opening her mouth to say something.

"Sh," Hancock said, putting a finger to what was once his lips. "Don't wake the kid."

Cait grinned at him slyly before resting on her own cot, Dogmeat opting to lay down on Hancock's feet.

The ghoul knew his arms and legs were going to be complete numb by morning, but...

He was happy.

Truly, happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it bad that whenever I type "Duncan" I usually think of either my childhood bully, the coffee, or the Grey Warden?


End file.
